


I don’t want you to leave (will you hold my hand?)

by frenchkiss



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 09:57:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3724609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchkiss/pseuds/frenchkiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m Harry. <em>Styles</em>,” he tacks on the end, and Louis’s grin reaches his ears. “I’m twenty-one. I work in a hotel every weekday from one ‘til seven to pay my way through uni, where I’m studying to become a physiotherapist, and I like cocktails, tattoos and cute boys in bands.” He says the last part with a cheeky grin, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth once he’s got the words out, and he’s met with a dazzlingly bright beam that makes his heart thump.</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Harry Styles aged twenty-one who likes cute boys in bands,” Louis says. “I’m going to kiss you now.”</p><p>Or the one where Louis’s famous, Harry isn’t, and one weekend is all it takes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don’t want you to leave (will you hold my hand?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nobodycompares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobodycompares/gifts).



> happy birthday to my sweet lovely darling Ida!!!! I love you lots I hope this is the kind of thing you'll enjoy I hope it lives up to all the expectations!!!

Harry’s always had a bit of a staring problem.

He doesn’t think of it as _creepy_ , per se – he’s always been a people watcher, all through high school and all through his variety of Saturday jobs. People are just so fascinating as far as he’s concerned; everyone has a story and everyone has a family and a job and maybe a dog or a cat and it’s just fun, is what it is, to assign people these back stories and have a little think about what their life is like.

The girl walking through the big entranceway, for example. She’s the daughter of a millionaire and she likes to frequent this hotel because it’s close to her lover, a primary school teacher who works in the school a couple of streets away, who her father would never approve of because she’s also a woman. They spend their time in the hotel planning their new life together in between calls to room service for champagne and strawberries. They’re very much in love and it’s beautiful.

Or how about the lady on the phone near the doorway to the bar. She’s a spy, Harry doesn’t doubt that for a second, all business suit and pointy heels and tanned skin and hair pulled back in a tight topknot, one hand clutching her phone to her ear while the other roots in her bag for something. She eventually drops her phone into her bag and struts into the bar, and Harry can see her through the little glass panels on the door taking a seat next to some bloke also dressed very professionally. He can only assume they’re coercing about their next move in the mission.

Sometimes though, his favourite stories are the ones are the simpler ones, the one’s that show off pure human excellence. The daytime doorman, now, he’s one of Harry’s favourites to wonder about. He clearly hates his job (Harry doesn’t know his name but he’s seen him round the back when he sneaks out for a cigarette sometimes, and his face is still just as sour up close) but he sticks with it, there every day between the hours of nine and five. He doesn’t wear a wedding ring but Harry thinks he must have children because he’s usually tired but almost unusually kind to children as they walk through in turn. Perhaps he’s raising two children all on his own and so he sticks at the job he hates to pay to get them through school.

The wage this hotel pays their staff should be more than enough for that. It’s part of the reason Harry’s stayed here – his wage is _disgustingly_ good for what he does.

Ah, now what about the family that’s just walked in. There’s a lot of them, Harry notes, and they’re mostly girls, all dressed up to the nines in pretty dresses and prim little shoes. Each parent has a baby perched on each hip, one weeping rather loudly into their father’s chest, but they both still manage to maintain an air of authority and importance nonetheless. There also seem to be bodyguards surrounding them, which is not unusual for a hotel like this but still makes Harry squint a little harder, trying to make out whom among them is the famous face.

The girl that looks to be the eldest is at the front of the party and has a huge handbag in the crook of her arm, the other wound around the waist of a boy in a very well fitting suit, hair in a soft quiff and cheekbones to die for.

He doesn’t really try to think about a possible story for this group, though, because this boy he wants to know in real life.

Harry tries not to gape at him as the pair of them laugh at something the girl pulls up on her phone. He’s quite possibly the most beautiful person Harry’s ever seen in real life, with his blue eyes and long legs and a jaw that Harry would very much like to nip at. The blazer he’s wearing is incredibly well tailored, a soft tweed with shiny black lapels paired with a pair of skinny black trousers. A simple white top sits underneath and he’s just wearing plain black brogues on his feet, but no socks. As he walks closer, Harry can make out two words on the top of each ankle, not that he’s staring at them. He’s not thinking about nibbling on them _at all._

The pair approaches the desk, the lad’s arm slung casually over her shoulders. He smiles at him, wide and beautiful, eyebrows raised a little until Harry realises he’s staring and promptly snaps his mouth shut.

“Hiiii,” he drawls, and then curses his own useless self. “Um, welcome to the Davidian Hotel, how I can help you, um, sir?”

The boy’s eyebrows shoot up higher and the girl at his side giggles into the back of her hand. “Hi there,” he smirks, then his eyes drop to Harry’s name badge, “ _Harry_. Yes, I have four rooms booked for me and my family, if you would be so kind as to get us checked in and give me the keys.”

Harry nods hurriedly, moving his mouse to bring his computer back to life and then hovering his hands over the keys. “Yes, yes, of course, yes. Um, what’s the name?”

The lad’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and the girl cackles louder. “Tomlinson,” he says with his own little snort. “Louis Tomlinson.”

 _Louis Tomlinson._ Harry’s heard that name somewhere, he’s sure he has. Ignoring the feeling in his chest that he might have just neglected to recognise someone really rather famous, he types the name into the computer and his eyes widen as he sees that the rooms Louis has booked out are the four most expensive in the whole hotel. Clearly these people, whoever they are, are significant and Harry curses his useless memory and crush-addled brain. _Surely_ he’d remember a face like that.

He looks up and almost jumps when he sees the entire family stood around Louis. He’s dropped his arm from around the girl’s shoulders, murmuring something in his mother’s ear and she laughs as she adjusts the baby on her hip, which in turn makes Louis smile that beautiful bright smile again. He leans forward, pressing his smiling lips onto her cheek in a quick kiss and then turns back to Harry.

“Is everything in order?” he questions, snapping Harry back to unfortunate reality. He nods again, fumbling for the key cards and managing to drop them in the process. When he re-emerges from the floor the entire family have stopped paying attention to him, too busy chatting among themselves or trying to calm the still weeping babies but Louis’s grinning at him again, his small hand extended expectantly. “Thank you, Harry.”

“I, um, you’re welcome,” Harry stammers. He can tell his face must be red as anything and he can feel his skin pricking with hot humiliation but Louis’s still smiling, almost smirking as he surveys Harry up and down.

“Are you going to show us to our rooms then?” he asks expectantly. Harry’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. Louis just keeps smirking, cocking his head to one side expectantly. “Well?”

“That’s not really my job, I mean…” Harry babbles, heart sinking a little because he’s not sure but he thinks Louis wants him to follow him. But he _can’t,_ he has a job to do, and anyway Louis’s with his family and he’s clearly dressed to go somewhere fancy so he doesn’t know what the point would be anyway…

“He’ll show you,” a familiar voice says from behind him. He jumps and spins to see Perrie standing there, hip cocked and a smile on her face that Harry doesn’t much like. She steps forward, gently bumping him out the way with her shoulder and smiles brightly at Louis and the girl. “I’ll take over here, H.”

Harry stares at her, eyes frantic, but she just keeps up the bright smile, nudging him again. “You go and show _Louis Tomlinson of One Direction_ and his family to their rooms, yeah?”

“Y-yes,” Harry squeaks, cheeks flaming in realisation. “Y-yeah, yeah, I will, I mean…”

And that’s how Harry finds himself stood outside Louis Tomlinson’s bedroom, pointedly _not staring_ as Louis has a conversation with his bodyguard and the rest of the Tomlinson clan in a hushed voice. Even under these glaring artificial hotel lights Louis looks beautiful, that _smirk_ still decorating his face. Harry isn’t sure if he should leave, or if he’s actually obligated to help them set up in their rooms or what. He’s just a desk assistant, after all; he’s never had to do this before.

“Harry?” Louis’s voice cuts through his thoughts and snaps him back to reality. “Would you be so kind as to show my family to their rooms?”

Harry nods hurriedly, almost tripping over his own feet in his hurry to start walking again. In his mind he’s frantically trying to work out the divide of the rooms, but then Louis’s sidled up next to him and he has another mini heart-attack as some key cards are thrust into his hand.

“Mum and Dan get the biggest one, obviously; it’s got a master suite and then rooms for the two sets of twins, a kitchenette and living room, that sort of thing,” he supplies helpfully. Harry nods gratefully, though he already knows about the layout, finding the key for room 1a and sliding it through the door.

“Here we are,” he says, unlocking it and standing back as the twins bolt inside and jump straight onto the plush sofa in the middle of the room. The bellhops follow the family into the room with the luggage and Harry clears his throat, managing to explain the layout and the Wi-Fi protocol with minimal struggle. Louis gently nudges past him and goes over to his mother, kissing her cheek and murmuring words that Harry can’t hear before he exits the room. “Um, if you need anything else be sure to give me a call, okay?”

“Don’t worry, Harry, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Louis’s mother says kindly, setting the baby in her arms into the requested playpen. “Thank you very much for your help.”

Harry nods and then leaves the room, closing the door behind him and making sure it beeps locked. Louis’s talking to his bodyguard again, and the two girls left in the hallway look thoroughly bored. “Um, so, who is next?”

“Us, _please,_ ” the younger of the two girls says. “I’ve needed a wee since, like, yesterday.”

Harry snorts a laugh at that and then checks the cards in his hand. They’re both for pretty identical rooms, so he picks the slightly bigger of the two and gestures the girls towards it. Louis and his bodyguard stay in the hall so he shows them the room without them. “You each get your own room and bathroom,” he explains. “Wi-Fi code is on the dining table and the door’s on an automatic lock. Um, can I show you the view?”

The younger of the two has already disappeared, presumably for that wee, but the older girl shakes her head. “We’re fine, thank you. I’m sure you have things you’d rather be doing than repeating an awkward hotel spiel to a popstar’s younger sister.”

Harry splutters but she just laughs. “I’m Lottie, by the way. Kudos to my brother for introducing us; sometimes he just forgets that not everyone knows us everywhere, bless.”

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, but she waves her hand.

“You’re fine,” she chuckles. “In fact, I think it’ll do him good.” She pushes her long hair over one shoulder and flops down onto the sofa. “Anyway, thank you for this. Sorry about the crying babies.”

“Not a problem,” Harry says quickly. “And I, um, I love babies, so it’s fine.”

Lottie’s eyebrows shoot up in a very similar expression to her brother’s. “Louis’ll like that. Speaking of which, you should probably go and find him, by the way.”

Blanching, Harry nods and disappears from the room to find Louis and his bodyguard still talking but this time, to Harry’s mild surprise, Louis has a stack of papers in his hand. “Um, Mr. Tomlinson? Would you like to be shown to your room?”

Louis snorts. “Mr. Tomlinson, fucking hell. Call me Louis, I’m begging you.” Then he shakes his head. “No, not yet. Alberto first.”

Harry nods again then shows Alberto to his room, where he waves off the safety and Wi-Fi explanations in favour of sending Louis a very pointed look and telling him to call him when he knows, whatever that means. Louis nods tightly then wraps a little hand around Harry’s wrist, tugging him out of there.

“Just me and you then,” Harry tries to say jokingly, but it comes out as a bit of a squeak. Louis doesn’t say anything, just holds out his hand for the final key card, and Harry hates himself a little bit for his terrible attempt at flirting. He pops the key card in and waits obediently for the door to unlock with the air of someone who does this a lot, and then drags Harry inside.

“I don’t need the speech,” he says after an awkward few seconds of silence. His hand is still around Harry’s wrist. “I stay in enough hotels not to need it.”

Harry nods, not sure whether to try and tug his arm away from Louis’s hold or not. Belatedly, he realises that Louis’s luggage must be in his mum’s bedroom and so the only thing he has with him is the key card and whatever those papers are. He furrows his eyebrows but then Louis sighs awkwardly and turns to look at Harry.

“Are you gay?” he asks bluntly. Harry chokes on a breath and it takes him a second to compose himself.

“I mean… um, yes?” he offers, because it seems easier than anything else right now.

Louis nods curtly and rubs his thumb over the inside of Harry’s wrist. “And are you interested?”

“In you?” Harry rasps, trying not to let his heart lurch straight out of his chest. “Um, well, yes, I mean, I, um…”

Louis smirks again, dropping his wrist and turning away. He goes over to the kitchenette in the main room and opens the fridge, pulling out a bottle of vodka. “Can I interest you in a little bevvy?”

Harry stares at him dumbly. “I, um, I have a job to do. My shift…”

Louis pours a shot into the bottle cap and downs it quickly, pulling a face as he comes back up. “When does your shift finish?”

“Seven.”

Louis nods, putting the vodka bottle back in the fridge. “And would you be interested in coming back at seven?” He walks back over to Harry, who is standing stock still in the middle of the room, and puts his hand tentatively on his hips. “Would you be interested in having a little fun with me?”

There are several parts of Harry that are very interested. He nods slowly, his eyes wide, and Louis grins, bouncing up on his tiptoes to press a little kiss into the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“Good to know,” he murmurs. “You don’t need to look so terrified, babe, I probably want you as much as you want me.”

“What?” Harry chokes out, not expecting to hear those words at _all_. “I…”

Louis stands back, taking his hands off Harry’s hips and holding one out for a handshake instead. “I’m Louis Tomlinson, I’m twenty-three years old, I’m a singer and I like vodka, The Fray, long walks on the beach, and hot boys who work in hotels. You?”

Harry stares at him blankly, still terrified out his bloody skin. Louis rolls his eyes.

“This is where you introduce yourself back,” he coaxes. “Come on, Harry, you didn’t know who I was until twenty minutes ago, and you work in a fucking big-ass hotel that probably has celebrities coming through its doors all the time.” He wiggles his hand, encouraging Harry to shake it. “So come on, introduce yourself properly.”

Harry snatches Louis’s little hand and shakes it, a little nervous smile playing on his lips. “I’m Harry. _Styles,_ ” he tacks on the end, and Louis’s grin reaches his ears. “I’m twenty-one. I work in a hotel every weekday from one ‘til seven to pay my way through uni, where I’m studying to become a physiotherapist, and I like cocktails, tattoos and cute boys in bands.” He says the last part with a cheeky grin, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth once he’s got the words out, and he’s met with a dazzlingly bright beam that makes his heart thump.

“Nice to meet you, Harry Styles aged twenty-one who likes cute boys in bands,” Louis says. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Harry gulps, expecting to hear those words but also not expecting them at the same time. Louis steps into his space again, the air thick between them, and his hands return to Harry’s hips, thumbs gently rubbing circles into them. He tilts his head back, looking up at Harry with blown eyes and Harry’s eyes drop to Louis’s lips, already slick with spit and parted in readiness. He’s truly beautiful, Harry thinks, all deep set eyes and chiseled features, and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever had anyone like him even speak to him before, let alone want to kiss him.

He’d be a fool to panic and push him away now.

Before he can think too much about any kind of consequences (there’s probably a regulation about kissing the guests, but fuck it), he leans down and covers Louis’s mouth with his own. Louis kisses back straight away, hand flying up to fist in the back of Harry’s soft hair. It’s a curious kiss more than anything, both boys struggling to find places to fit their hands and there’s only the tiniest hint of tongue, but Louis tastes like vodka and mint and smoke and something else Harry can’t quite work out and it’s very, very pleasant.

Louis pulls back abruptly, nose bumping Harry’s as he falls back onto the heels of his feet. “I… was that okay?” he asks, and he suddenly seems shy, _worried_ almost. Harry jumps in to reassure him quickly, but he shakes his head and cuts him off. “No, wait, I mean…” He sighs, then ruches up the sleeve of his blazer so he can look at his watch. “Is there any way you could stay here? I mean, it’s ten to six, how much more can you be needed for?”

“What about your family?” Harry asks. “Do they not want to spend the evening with you?”

Louis shakes his head. “My mum knows, and I…” He sighs. “I’ll tell you later, maybe. Just, could you?”

Harry’s never felt more confused or out of his depth in his life, but he nods. “I mean, I… I could ring down to the desk; ask Perrie if she could cover for me?”

“Would you?” Louis asks. He runs a hand through his hair - essentially ruining the perfect quiff - then sighs and starts combing his fingers through it to tame it. “I need…” He sighs again. “If we’re gonna do this, I need to spell some stuff out to you, I…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Harry reassures. He’s not sure when he became the calmer one here, or when Louis suddenly went from cocky arsehole popstar to fearful young lad, but he’ll roll with it. “Let me use the room phone for a second, yeah?”

He doesn’t know why he does it, but he presses a gentle kiss onto Louis’s forehead as he brushes past, which clearly surprises them both. Louis lets out a little squeak and Harry pulls back, terrified he’s suddenly crossed a line, but Louis presses two fingers into the spot where he’s kissed and smiles so Harry walks off feeling less terrified.

A quick call to Perrie sees him leaving Louis for a brief ten minutes to get his bag and coat from downstairs before he sneaks back upstairs. It’s Friday anyway, and Perrie’s on the desk until seven before Barbara takes over anyway. He’ll be fine, and the call of Louis is too strong anyway. There’s something about the boy that makes him want to hurry back as quick as he can, wants his lips back on his even after their brief kiss, wants everything Louis will give him no matter how little or how much.

It’s only been an hour, but Harry never wants to stop staring.

When he gets back to the room there’s an open suitcase on the floor and clothes strewn everywhere, and Louis’s changed out of his suit, now dressed in soft looking trackies and a loose black vest. He nearly swallows his tongue when he takes in the sight of Louis’s biceps that had been very well and rather tragically hidden by his blazer, tilting his head to take in the big tattoo of a stag on one of them.

Louis clears his throat but Harry doesn’t pay attention, too busy let his eyes rack down Louis’s little body. He’s short but strong, clearly, but despite the arms, well, the only word Harry can think to describe him is _soft._ Soft hair, soft eyes, soft everything really.

“Are you done?” Louis questions, and _oh,_ the smirk is back. Harry flushes and nods, offering a sheepish smile of apology.

Maybe he does have a staring problem.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. Louis just shakes his head, still smirking.

“’m kind of used it,” he admits, “Though not often from people I fancy back. But there’s a first time for everything.”

Harry nods, walking carefully over to the dining table and draping his coat over the back of a chair. “So, um, what did you need to spell out for me?”

“Yeah, that,” Louis says, eyes dropping to the floor. He mumbles something that Harry can’t quite hear then nudges past him carefully, picking up the stack of papers from earlier off the kitchen counter and taking them over to the dining table. “Okay, um, if we’re going to do this, um, well I need you to sign these.”

“What are they?” Harry questions. He feels a bit sick but relaxes a little when he feels Louis’s hand on the small of his back (he’s not sure why that makes him instantly reassured but it does).  

“They’re, um, well they’re privacy contracts,” Louis says. “I’m not out, um, officially, and I just need them to make sure you’re legally obligated not to go to the papers or anything. Also so it’s on the book that we both wanted this and it was, um, consensual and stuff.”

“Okay, yeah, um, I’ll sign,” Harry says simply. He offers a little shrug and Louis lets out a long sigh and rests his head against Harry’s arm.

“Thank you,” he breathes out. “I was so worried you were gonna run a mile when I sprung those on you.”

“What? No, no, I mean,” Harry coughs, “I don’t… this is all so surreal but I’m in if you want me to be.”

There’s a moment’s pause before Louis says “I really want you to be, Harry. You’re, um… are you _sure?_ ”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, if you need this then of course I’ll do it.”

“Harry,” Louis says, voice soft. “Do you know what I’m asking of you?”

“You want me to sleep with you and not tell anyone,” Harry says with a shrug. “Like, I can do that, Louis. I _want_ to have sex with you, that’s why I’m here.”

“I’ve never done this before,” Louis mumbles, “not with, um, I... not with someone I’m attracted to, if you catch my drift.”

“You’ve never had sex with someone you’re attracted to?” Harry asks lamely. Louis just presses his lips together and then Harry’s eyes go wide with realisation. “You’ve… with a boy, you’ve never…?”

Louis shakes his head.

“Louis, you want me to be your first?” Harry asks, spinning on his heel to stare at him. “Do you know what you’re asking of _me_?”

“Yes,” Louis says slowly. He takes one of Harry’s hands in both of his. “Yes, and I want this. I want this from you.”

Harry probably looks as panicked as he feels. “But I… I don’t wanna, I mean… _Louis._ ” He pauses.  “Why me? Surely you have lots of boys throwing themselves at you, I mean, why me? I’m nothing special.”

Louis pauses for a second, then steps into Harry’s space. He cups his cheek with one hand, the other resting on Harry’s hip gently. “I understand if you don’t want to anymore,” he says in a small voice, “and of course you have no obligation to do it, I mean, when you sound out how absurd taking a twenty-three year old who you’ve known for an hour’s virginity, I don’t know why I thought I could ask that of you, I’m sorry…” He’s babbling now and he drops his hand from Harry’s cheek to fiddle nervously with the collar of his t-shirt. He looks so young, and Harry knows what he’s asking is fucking huge, but he doesn’t want to let him down.

So to shut up him, calm him down, just to do _something,_ he kisses him.

Louis squeaks against his mouth but Harry keeps firm, bringing his hands up to Louis’s face and holding them firm as he licks into his mouth. Louis parts his easily, letting Harry’s tongue slide wetly against his as he grips at his hips to draw them as close as he can. It’s a desperate kiss, nothing like their first one, but they both sink into it like they need it instead of air. When they pull back for air there’s a trail of spit still connecting their lips and they’re both panting, hair all over the place and Harry’s smart suit rather rumpled.

“I’ll make it so good for you,” Harry mutters, knocking their foreheads together and drinking in Louis’s blue, blue eyes which are blown with lust and want. “I’ll make you feel so good, Louis.”

“Yeah,” Louis says on an exhale, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth. “Yeah, yeah, I know you will.”

Harry nods, dipping down to kiss him again. He nips at Louis’s mouth, sucking his lip between his own then lets Louis deepen it at his own pace. Harry feels hot all over and the change in atmosphere from tense to heated feels heavy in his bones. Louis’s gripping at the front of his shirt tightly, kissing like his life depends on it and Harry _wants_ like he hasn’t wanted anyone in a very long time.

He pulls back but he stays attached to Louis by a string of spit that neither of them makes an effort to get rid of. They stare at each other for a second, eyes blown, and then they’re kissing again, Louis’s arms wrapping themselves around Harry’s neck. Without really thinking about it, Harry puts his hands on Louis’s bum and scoops him up into his arms. Louis squawks, clinging to his back dramatically but Harry kisses him again to quiet him, and after a few seconds Louis’s kisses back again but not before mumbling a “bloody caveman” into his lips.”

Harry grins as he stumbles a little, marching them towards the door that he assumes is the bedroom. Once they get inside he drops Louis onto the bed and watches him scrabble back against the pillows with hooded eyes. He yanks his shirt untucked as he kicks off his shoes then gets onto the bed.

He makes the effort to slow down their kisses because Louis’s skin is red and hot, and his breathing is coming out too heavy for him to be relaxed. He smooths his hair from his eyes and breaks off from kissing his mouth, pressing his lips onto his cheek. Then he kisses his nose, then the other cheek.

“Louis, relax,” Harry coaxes. “Relax for me, babe.”

Louis lets out a long exhale as he nods so Harry goes back to kissing him softly, from the lips to his cheeks to his jaw, trailing down his body ever so slowly. He pushes Louis’s t-shirt up to his armpits and mouths at his chest, pressing a tiny kiss to his nipple. As his breathing evens out Louis seems to be getting calmer, hands balling into tight little fists in Harry’s hair that tug just right as he moves. It’s delectable and Harry’s already half-hard in his suit trousers, eager and eager to please.

“How do you want to do this?” Harry murmurs into Louis’s sternum. “Do you want to fuck me, or me to fuck you? Or do you just want me to suck you off?”

Louis groans and tosses his head back against the pillows. “All three?”

Harry snorts, pressing another kiss into his ribcage. “Have you got… you know, stuff?”

Louis coughs awkwardly. “Shit, yeah, yeah, forgot that. Um, they’re in my case.”

Harry kisses the other side of his ribcage. “I’ll grab them, don’t worry. Have a think while I’m gone.” He rubs his thumb over the joint of Louis’s ankle, then disappears back into the other room.

When he returns he sees Louis’s lost his shirt and joggers, wearing nothing but a pair of Calvin Klein’s and a tight expression. Dropping the lube and box of condoms onto the bed, Harry undoes enough buttons so he can slip the shirt over his head then undoes his trousers slowly. He can hear Louis’s breathing from over here, nervous and ragged, so he clears his throat.

“You can fuck me if you’re nervous about it hurting,” he offers. “I don’t mind, it’s really up to you here.”

“No, no,” Louis says in a small voice. “I, um, well I think I trust you. At least, I believe you when you say you’ll make it good.”

There’s a part of Harry that wants to fuck Louis into next week until he’s crying and writhing and begging to come, but there’s also a part of him that wants to take Louis in his arms and just hold him until he can’t anymore. He doesn’t know what that means.

So instead, he walks back over to the bed and before he can second-guess himself or Louis, he snaps down Louis’s boxers. Louis’s already mostly hard and Harry’s mouth waters at the sight of his leaking tip, but he forces himself to take a deep breath and look up at a terrified looking Louis, his eyes wide and unsure.

“Hey, hey,” Harry says gently. He holds out his hand. “Can you pass me down a pillow?”

Louis’s brows furrow but he does as he’s asked and plucks a pillow out from behind his head. Harry takes it then carefully lifts Louis’s hips, which makes him yelp, but once he’s tucked the pillow underneath him he lets out a long exhale in understanding.

“Relax,” Harry says, pressing dry lips into Louis’s thigh. “I’m going to put you in my mouth now, alright?”

Louis squeaks and Harry jolts up to look at him but once they make eye contact Louis just nods quickly. “Yes, yes, please, Harry, _please._ ”

“Right, right,” Harry mutters. He wraps a hand around the base of Louis’s cock and jerks it a couple of times, smirking to himself as Louis lets out the longest groan. His tongue darts out to lap at the leaking head and he drinks up the precum at the tip before he slides his lips down and hollows his cheeks.

Louis swears as Harry presses himself down, down, down, until his lips meet his hand and then he drags back up slowly, pulling himself off all the way before he takes him back in. He’s slow on purpose, wants to draw this out for as long as he can for Louis, because nobody deserves a rushed first time. He trails down him again and pops off, bringing his tongue out to run it up and down the length as his hand moves up and down.

“H-Harry,” Louis stutters. His little hands are fisted in the sheets and Harry hears the elastic of them snap up as he manages to tug it off the corner of the mattress. “Harry, _Jesus,_ that feels…”

“Good?” Harry teases, pressing a lingering kiss onto the tip. Louis whimpers so Harry licks a long stripe from base to tip to torture him some more, then takes him back in his mouth. He flicks his wrist along with every slurp of Louis’s length and Louis’s hips start to jolt of their own accord. Harry knows he wants to make him come, because he wants him to be in that nice dopey post-orgasm state before he fucks him so he doubles his efforts, sliding off before he mouths at Louis’s balls. Louis _wails_ and he spreads his legs wider, and Harry just finds himself wanting more.

He takes Louis’s balls in his hands instead, fondling them as he presses open mouthed kisses into his length before he nuzzles his nose down and kisses at his thighs. Louis’s trembling now, a string of profanities leaving his lips at every micro touch but when the tip of Harry’s tongue presses itself between Louis’s cheeks, barely even touching his hole he just seizes up and just _comes_ with a shout. There’s white streaking his belly, his skin red and hot to the touch, so Harry scrambles up his body and hovers over him tentatively.

“Louis?” he questions. “Louis, was that okay?”

It takes a second for Louis to get his breath back, but then he wheezes “more than okay, fucking _hell_ ,” and Harry grins, kissing his shoulder happily.

“Good,” he tells him before he sits up and leans back on his haunches.  “I’m going to open you up now, is that okay?”

Louis’s eyes fly open. “You… you still wanna?”

Harry looks down at him, confused, as he uncaps the bottle of lube that was lying next to Louis’s head. “Of course I do. I told you I’d make this good for you, didn’t I?”

“You already did,” Louis points out with a chuckle. Harry rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head so his curls bounce. “No, but seriously, are you sure?”

“Louis, be quiet,” Harry chides, surprising them both. Louis just sighs and spreads his legs a little wider.

“Alright then, bossy boy,” he says. He closes his eyes and then lets them flutter open again, and he stares up at Harry shyly. “Will you kiss me?”

Harry nods and leans down, brushing his dry hand tenderly over Louis’s cheek as he kisses him better. It’s too intimate for a one night stand but Harry’s not going to stop, because Louis deserves to have this done well and however he wants it is how it’ll be.

“Can you roll onto your belly for me?” he asks gently. Louis whimpers and waits for Harry to push himself back up on his knees before he rolls over and spreads his legs again. Harry shuffles down and settles himself against the backs of Louis’s knees. He uncaps the lube again and spreads a generous helping over two fingers.

With lips pressed into the small of Louis’s back, he gently nudges his finger in between Louis’s cheeks and just brushes them over his tight hole. All the air leaves Louis’s lungs as he just nudges the tip past the tight ring of muscle so Harry goes purposefully slowly, sliding it in ever so carefully.

“When I go to push deeper, you try to push my finger out,” he says quietly. Louis lets out a whimper that Harry hopes is in understanding and gently prods his finger in deeper, which thankfully meets less resistance than before. “Atta boy,” he says with a little laugh. “How does it feel?”

“S’… s’good,” Louis slurs, clenching his arse around Harry’s finger as if to prove a point. “You can… you can move it.”

Slowly, Harry pulls it back and then pushes it back in again, and after a couple of minutes he’s got a steady rhythm going with it. He adds a second one carefully, leaning forward so he can press kisses over the swell of his bum. Louis’s breathing is heavy again and it only gets heavier when Harry crooks his fingers, brushing over the bundle of nerves that makes Louis moan, long and broken.

“That’s your prostate, babe,” Harry says cheerily. “Everything okay?”

“Again,” Louis grits out, “ _shit,_ again, _Harry.”_

Harry gladly does as he’s told, and by the time he’s got another finger in Louis’s coming again, unexpected and sticky all over the sheets. Harry startles and goes to pull his fingers out but Louis’s tight hole holds him in place like a vice. When he does finally manage to get his fingers out Louis whines and looks at him awkwardly over his shoulder with a glare.

“What are you doing?” he croaks. “Am I ready?”

“Louis, you’ve come twice,” Harry points out. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Shush now,” Louis says, his voice still trembling from his orgasm. “I wanted you to fuck me, yeah? Well, I’m still asking for you to fuck me.”

“Awfully bossy, aren’t you?” Harry grins. He slides his fingers back into Louis’s now pliable hole, scissoring them gently and revelling in the little _ur ur ur_ noises that fall from Louis’s lips. Once he’s stretched enough and he’s been extremely generous with the lube, Harry presses a kiss into the middle of his back and sits back up, reaching past Louis to grab a condom. Louis turns his head to look at him with his lips parted and eyes hooded, so Harry kisses him. He can’t resist, not with the way Louis looks so _wrecked_ and it’s all because of what Harry did to him. There’s something so wonderful about giving, but Louis looks so much better than anyone he’s had before.

Once the condom is on and he’s added a little more lube to be on the safe side he rolls Louis back over onto his back, his cock in one hand and the other tangling with his.

“You okay?” he asks, eyes racking up and down Louis’s body. He’s nearly hard again and his lashes are clumped with tears but he nods, coaxing Harry forward so he can wrap his arms around his neck. With a grunt, Harry positions himself and then starts to press forward inside him, the tip of his dick breaching slowly and making Louis’s back arch off the bed as he moans obscenely.

Louis’s tight, _tight_ heat, and his body is so responsive to every single little touch Harry gives him. He kisses him through the initial sting and uses all the willpower he has not to just slam inside, but _god,_ Louis’s so hot and tight and he’s making these sounds that make Harry’s head spin.

By the time Harry’s bottomed out Louis sounds like he’s weeping, little sobs leaving him at every swivel of Harry’s hips. Gently and carefully, Harry brings their tangled fingers to his dick, standing to attention against his stomach, and wraps Louis’s fingers around it.

“Touch yourself a bit, it’ll take the edge off,” he says reassuringly. Louis whimpers and nods then does as he told, and Harry feels a lot better when his breathing evens out a bit and he’s focused on tugging at himself. He pulls out again and then pushes back in, pillaring his arms above Louis’s shoulders. Louis tries to move his hips but Harry just shakes his head and kisses him again softly.

“Let me,” he coaxes, pushing Louis’s sweaty hair from his eyes. “Let me take care of you, Lou.”

The nickname makes Louis whimper again and he wraps his free arm around Harry’s neck, managing to steal a quick kiss before Harry nails his prostate on the up-thrust and he’s gasping, nails digging harshly into the back of Harry’s neck. Harry grunts and changes the angle ever so slightly so he can hit it again, and by the time he’s picked up a nice steady rhythm Louis’s whining and biting at his shoulder, little sobs leaving his body and becoming muffled by Harry’s skin.

“Faster,” he hears him choke out, “’m close, Harry, please, _please.”_

His own orgasm hits him like a freight train, too focused on the boy beneath him to really be focused on himself, but it takes Louis moving his hand to tangle in Harry’s hair. Two tugs and he’s gone, hips stuttering as he fills the condom. Him and Louis groan in unison, Louis seeming to take it as a sign to just tug harder at his prick, but all it takes is Harry trying to pull out slowly and brushing his prostate one last time for him to come, barely anything leaking out of him as he crows Harry’s name.

“Shit,” Harry gulps, collapsing on the bed next to Louis. He cringes as he moves his hand to his dick, eager to get the condom off him, and pulls it off gingerly. He knots it and puts it on the bedside table then turns to look at Louis, who has his eyes closed but a dopey smile on his face.

“That was amazing,” he says in a voice that sounds far away. “I never thought… I never knew…”

Harry grins as he rolls over, carefully rolling Louis onto his side so he can kiss him. Louis smiles into it and cups Harry’s face, keeping them pressed close.

“I’m glad it lived up to your expectations,” Harry murmurs, smiling to himself as Louis’s hand then searches for his on the tangled sheets and links them.

“Up to and surpassed them,” Louis says with a yawn. “I don’t think my poor arse was ready.”

“You can fuck me next,” Harry teases, though he kind of regrets saying it the second the words are out of his mouth. Louis’s given him no indication as to how long he wants him to stay, nor that this was anything more than a one time thing. But Louis just snorts a little laugh and rolls his head towards Harry’s. He cracks open one eye and stares at him for a few moments.

“After dinner, maybe,” he says cheekily. “You are staying for dinner, aren’t you? It’s the least I can do, buying you a burger or something.”

There’s a party at Ed’s tonight that all of Harry’s friends are going to be at. He’s been up late doing coursework for the past few nights, and he’s been looking forward to going out and getting wasted all week.

“I’ll stay,” he says. “Just let me know when you want me to leave, but food does sound good.”

Louis laughs again and his eyes flutter shut. He turns his head away from Harry but their fingers stay linked. “A little nap then, and then food?”

Harry nods and rolls onto his side without really thinking about it. His eyes snap open when he realises that he’s spooning Louis awkwardly on one side, but Louis just grins and rolls over, sinking back into Harry’s chest like they’ve known each other a lot longer than two hours.

As Harry drifts off to sleep, still naked and sweaty, he only lets himself wonder what the fuck he’s doing for a second before he’s pulled into a soft warm sleep, Louis’s hand still locked in his.

*

When Harry wakes up, the bed is empty beside him. He rubs his eyes and sits up, letting the sticky sheet slide from his shoulders as he takes in his surroundings. He’s naked and the room smells like sex and _oh…_ Louis.

Speaking of Louis, he suddenly realises what woke him up is a loud stream of curse words coming from the next room. He groggily gets himself up, finding his boxers on the floor and pulling them on before he goes out of the bedroom and finds Louis at the dining table, waving his hand around dramatically. There’s a pizza and a burger for each of them spread out and it smells amazing, so Harry clears his throat to make himself known.

“Hi,” he says carefully, staying in the doorway. “You okay?”

“No, _buggering shit,_ ” Louis curses. “I burnt my hand on this fucking molten cheese.”

“Run it under the tap,” Harry tells him, stepping forward and guiding him over to the sink. “There we go, that’s gonna do it the world of good.”

“Thank you, mother,” Louis sing-songs sarcastically, but he does as he’s told. Harry hands him a tea towel to dry it on and then turns to the table.

“Smells amazing.”

Louis offers a little laugh, scratching at the back of his neck with his non-burnt hand. “Yeah,” he says sheepishly. “Didn’t know what you’d want so I figured burgers or pizza were safe options. You hungry?”

“Very,” Harry says, plopping down on one of the dining chairs and taking a mouthful of delicious warm burger. “Mmmm, thanks for this.”

“No problem, babe,” Louis grins. He goes back to the pizza and gingerly takes a bite. “Mmmm, much better.”

They eat in silence for a few moments until Harry clears his throat.

“So… do you still want to try fucking me?”

Louis nearly drops his pizza but he catches himself, then nods shyly. “I mean, if you want that.” He coughs. “I… I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me because that fuck was _incredible._ ”

Harry giggles. “Same to you, you were great.” He also coughs, rather nervous for whatever reason. “You can fuck me after this, yeah?” He flips his hair out of his eyes as he surveys the room. “Um, what time is it?”

“Half eleven,” Louis says with a grimace. “Sorry I’ve kept you, but you looked so peaceful sleeping and I didn’t want…”

“It’s fine, honestly,” Harry tells him. “I have nowhere to be. Would rather be getting laid by the hot popstar than sitting on my own in my flat.”

“You live alone?” Louis questions. Harry nods.

“Yeah, just in this little crummy one bedroom not far from campus. I like my space.”

Louis nods tightly. “I don’t want to pressure you but… if you have nowhere else to be, would you fancy staying the night?”

Harry pauses for a second but eventually nods. “Yeah, yeah. That would be nice, I mean, if I’m not overstaying my welcome.”

“Harry, if you weren’t here I’d be jerking off on my own,” Louis says flatly. “Would be the whole weekend - you can stay as long as you want. We might as well do nothing together.”

“Noted,” Harry says, grinning into his burger. “I might take you up on that. There’s lots to teach you about sex.”

Louis smirks. “Ah, yes, that too.”

So later, Harry gets on his hands and knees and preps himself for Louis, who watches in awe as Harry’s long fingers disappear inside himself. After he’s clumsily lubed himself up Louis presses in and drapes himself over Harry’s back, then fucks him until he’s coming all over the bedsheets. They tumble onto the bed, laugh at the puddle of cum that’s rubbed all over Harry’s skin, and fall asleep tangled up together like they’ve known each other for ages.

The weirdest part, Harry thinks, as he sinks into Louis’s embrace and traces a lazy pattern into the skin on the back of Louis’s hand, is how none of this feels weird at all.

*

The second time Harry wakes up in that room Louis’s gone again.

Birds chirping outside and the light shining through the cracks in the blinds lead Harry to conclude it must be the morning. The bed’s not fully cold next to him, which means Louis hasn’t been gone long and probably hasn’t gone too far, so after finding some pyjama pants that are too short for him to wear he clicks his back then stumbles towards the door in search of him.

He pads out into the living area and finds Louis on the sofa, eating cereal in his boxers with the TV turned low. He beams when he sees Harry though, setting his cereal bowl on the coffee table.

“Help yourself, there’s milk in the fridge,” he calls over to him. Harry calls back a thanks and pours himself a big bowl, padding over to the sofa and tucking himself into the opposite end from Louis.

They eat in a comfortable silence for a while, the low hum of the Food Network the only noise, until Louis shuffles a little closer to him.

“So what do you want to do today, young Harold?” he asks through a mouthful of Cheerios. “I, personally, am quite fond of this idea of not leaving the bedroom until we have to go back to work.”

“Monday at one is my next shift,” Harry offers, “you reckon we can keep going for that long?”

“Try me,” Louis beams, a little milk trickling down onto his chin. “I wanna suck you off later, how does that sound?”

“About as good as rimming you sounds,” Harry says back, equally as mischievous. “Would you be up for that?”

Louis chokes on his mouthful. “You wanna put your tongue up my arse?”

Harry groans and nods. “You have the _perfect_ arse for rimming, you don’t even understand. I’ll make it so good, Lou, but if you don’t want to I get that too, I just…”

“Just… let’s do a bit more before we get into the rimming, yeah?” Louis says with a nervous laugh. “A few more blowjobs, maybe a fuck or two, then the rimjob, alright?”

“Alright,” Harry agrees with a shrug. “You can say no, you know, it’s not for everyone.”

“Harry, I really want it,” Louis says, leaning forward to wrap a hand around his wrist. “But, like, just let me have a few more mutual orgasms and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

So they do.

Louis sucks Harry off there and then on the sofa, then after they’ve showered Harry fucks him again, this time on his belly. After that, they eat a lunch of leftover pizza and watch The Inbetweeners Movie on the hotel’s movie order and talk a bit, then Louis sheepishly wanders off for a second shower and Harry’s blood thrums through his veins with excitement and arousal.

After about half an hour apart Louis calls him through to the bedroom, and Harry nearly shoots one off there and then.

Louis’s on his front with his face down and arse up, his pretty bum exposed for Harry’s watering mouth to lick at. So he hurries over to the bed and dives straight in, pressing the pad of his thumb into his hole before he starts to lick over it messily, not letting either of them have time to second guess it.

Louis fucking _loses_ it, moaning loudly at every lick and sobbing the deeper Harry licks. He tastes like his mango bodywash and sweat, two tastes that Harry could get very used to, and Harry too loses himself in it. There’s something about rimming that he fucking loves – not only the way it’s driving Louis a new kind of crazy but the way there’s so much trust there and it’s only been a day. It’s amazing and beautiful and hot all at once and Harry’s cock is throbbing between his legs in no time.

He’s openly fucking his tongue in and out now, big hands on Louis’s plump cheeks and keeping them spread as Louis chokes out his name, long and broken. It’s so sexy, the way he’s clenching around his tongue, and although Harry’s desperate to get a hand on himself he doesn’t give in, just keeps kissing and biting and sucking at Louis’s rim.

The second Harry gets a hand around Louis’s cock he’s coming with a shout, wailing Harry’s name into the pillow as he covers his hand with white. So in awe is he of this beautiful boy under his mouth that he almost forgets to stop, still kissing at the rim until Louis’s knees give way and he’s crying at him to stop.

He snaps down his boxers and grabs his cock and pumps it furiously until the small of Louis’s back is drenched with white, then he collapses onto the bed behind him, spent. He presses a kiss into the back of Louis’s sweaty neck and Louis lets out a long exhale as he leans back into Harry’s chest.

“Was that okay?” Harry checks. “You taste so good, Lou, Jesus, that was the most fun I’ve ever had giving a rimjob.”

Louis sniffs. “Was really good, thank you, thank you…”

“Hey, hey,” Harry says, rolling him over onto his other side and kissing his forehead, which might be disgusting considering where his tongue’s just been but he thinks Louis needs it. “Are you okay?”

“Very good,” Louis says softly. “Cuddle please.”

“Sure,” Harry says, nuzzling into the sweaty boy happily. Louis wraps his arms loosely around Harry’s back and takes a deep breath into his chest, snuffling softly like Harry already knows he does in his sleep.

Warm and pliant, he stays dozing in Harry’s arms until Harry finds himself unexpectedly prodded awake for dinner. Louis calls down to room service and orders them up enormous bowls of spaghetti bolognese and a cheesecake for after, which Louis spreads on Harry’s four nipples as a joke but ends up licking off and, well. There’s nothing comical about the way Harry’s heart beats as the sight of Louis on his knees for him, or the way he feels when Louis’s nuzzling into his sweaty chest like he belongs there after their second round.

Something tells Harry he’s in too deep already.

*

The third time Harry wakes up without Louis he’s not really asleep but he’s getting there. Louis certainly _isn’t,_ however, not with the way he scrambles out of the bed like it’s urgent.

He feels the bed dip and then Louis’s gone, bare feet shuffling across the soft carpet and out into the living area. Harry rolls over and sits up, hand reaching out for him even though he knows he left. He takes a minute to take in Louis’s now-rather familiar scent, smoke and tea and honey and his cologne, and it’s a smell he thinks he could get very used to. He doesn’t want to let himself think about that.

He waits a few minutes and then tugs the top sheet off the bed and drapes it around him, because he can’t be arsed looking for boxers and if Louis’s gone to see his mum or something then he’ll just get back into bed.

But he hasn’t. He’s in the kitchen area, the sound of the kettle much too loud for the dark room. Louis’s put boxers on and he’s bent over to get the milk out the fridge. When he comes up to set it onto the counter, Harry reaches forward to touch his bare shoulder and he jumps, some of it sloshing over the top of the bottle.

“Shit, Harry,” he gasps, slumping against the side. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Harry says quickly, jumping back. Louis sighs, reaching across to snag the corner of the kitchen roll and uses it to mop up the milk.

“You’re alright,” he says eventually. “You want a tea?” Harry mumbles a “yes” then tentatively wraps his arms loosely around Louis’s shoulders. He sinks back against Harry’s chest and Harry presses his nose into Louis’s hair, which smells like sweat. “Did I wake you?”

“Wasn’t asleep yet,” Harry tells him. “You okay?”

“Just wanted a tea,” Louis shrugs. “Felt a bit restless too.”

“How come?” Harry asks, not wanting to cross a line. “You wanna talk?”

“I just…” Louis sighs, gently breaking out of Harry’s arms so he can dump the tea bags in the bin. “Just thinking about this weekend, really.”

“What about?” Harry presses. He pauses. “Do you want… have I overstayed my welcome?”

“No, _no_ ,” Louis says hurriedly. He hands over the mug of tea to Harry. “You’re okay. I like… I like you here.”

Harry smiles. “Well, that’s… that’s good. I’m glad.”

Louis shakes his head fondly. “I’m glad you’re glad.”

“So anything else I can help you with?” Harry asks. “You can offload on me if you want, baby.”

The word catches them both by surprise, and Louis’s hands visibly tremble against the mug.

“I’m sorry,” Harry blurts. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“Baby,” Louis repeats, a soft smile finding its way to his lips after a few tentative seconds. “I like baby.”

“You… yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, “and I’ve been thinking about, well, this. Us.”

“Us?”

“I like there being an us,” Louis shrugs. “It’s been a day and I, like, I’m already too fond of you. And I… I can’t be, Harry, I can’t be.”

Harry swallows thickly. “I’m sorry.”

Louis laughs sadly, setting his tea down on the counter and then leans back into Harry’s chest again, who adjusts his sheet then bundles Louis into his arms. “Don’t be sorry for that, don’t you ever be sorry for how you make me feel.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles again. Louis laughs softly, pressing his cheek into Harry’s neck. “For the record, I’m quite fond of you too.”

“Lucky me,” Louis says teasingly. “But we… I’ve known you a _day,_ Harry. And you make me want to not go back on tour. You make me want to tell my mum we’ve been seeing each other and that you’ve told me you’re incredibly fond of me. You make me want to do these things that I can’t do because I’m a famous boybander in the closet for all eternity.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry argues. “You might, oh I don’t know, meet someone along the line worth taking with you. Then maybe they wouldn’t have a choice.”

Louis laughs sadly. “The ball’s completely in their court, babe. I can come out when they tell me I can, which might be when we’re big enough, might be later, who knows?”

“You’re huge now though,” Harry points out, “and could you not argue for the good that it would do?”

“Good versus ticket sales isn’t really a debate for them, I’m afraid,” Louis says. He shrugs and pulls away, leaning against the other side of the counter so they can look at each other.. “I… the thing is, obviously this weekend was about some new things and stuff, especially for me, but, like, you’re a new thing and I don’t want it to only be a weekend thing.”

Harry stares at him, watching his cheeks get a little pinker in the pale light of the room.

“But you can’t be, that’s my point,” he finishes, all in one breath that sounds like it hurts. “I don’t want to hurt you, especially because I kind of forced you into this but… _shit,_ Harry, I never meant for this to happen.”

“I don’t think either of us did,” Harry admits. “But this - at least for me anyway – this isn’t just a weekend, Lou. There’s… there’s something between us. And I’m glad you asked me to do this and I’m glad I could do it for you.”

“I don’t want it to end,” Louis admits into the porcelain rim of his mug. “I don’t want to go back to my life and spend the rest of it wondering if you met someone who could give you more than I could.” He groans and knocks his head back. “What am I saying? It’s been a fucking day, Harry.”

“Thirty-one hours, actually,” Harry corrects with a smile. “But I know.” He sighs. “I kind of don’t know either.”

“There’s… there’s something between us, isn’t there?” Louis questions tentatively. “Like, it’s not just never having had anything like a relationship before, there is something between us more than just… _sex._ ”

Harry steps closer, hands finding Louis’s little hips and resting their foreheads together. “Well, I think so. And I think we’d be good together, if the world would have us be together.”

“Hippy twat,” Louis says fondly. He stares up at Harry, giving him a few quick kisses. “I’m glad you feel it too.”

“This is certainly beyond anything I’ve ever had before,” Harry shrugs. “Like, I know I’m only twenty-one and obviously I’m expecting to find my soulmate or anything quite yet, but you’re the best I’ve ever had and I mean that.”

“You’re just saying that,” Louis snorts.

“I’m not,” Harry promises. “You’re very different to anyone I’ve been with before, and it’s a good thing. It’s a _really_ good thing.”

“So tell me about the boys before me,” Louis says. “What makes me different?”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Do you really want to listen to be bang on about the lads – and girls, mind – I’ve had before you when I just said that none of them were anything special compared to you?”

“Okay, well then, explain to me what makes me something particularly special,” Louis says. “I am very interested to know what makes me better than those lucky few who had you before me.”

“Simple,” Harry shrugs, “you’re the only one I’ve had a real connection with. Our bodies fit, our personalities fit, and you seem to know exactly what I want you to do without much prior experience or me having to ask. With most of the people before, there’s no way I would have hung around for a cuppa, let alone for an entire weekend. That’s how I know it’s a real connection, because I never would have done any of this with anyone else, and here I am doing it with someone I barely know, but I don’t want to stop.”

Louis looks a little pained.

“So mostly,” Harry says quietly, fingers lightly brushing the outline of Louis’s jaw, “I think the sign of something particularly special is whether you feel the need to cover yourself up after you’ve had sex.”

Louis blushes prettily. “And how do you feel with me?”

Harry drops the sheet to the floor.

*

On Sunday morning, Louis orders them both the monster of all fry ups and they eat in their pants on the sofa, the weekly Come Dine with Me marathon playing on in the background. “Hey,” he asks Harry, reaching out to swipe at some escaped egg yolk from the corner of his lips. “What do you want to do today? S’up to you.”

Harry furrows his brows. “It should be up to you, Lou. It’s our last day.”

Louis freezes, thumb poised over the middle of Harry’s mouth. He looks small again, a little lost and confused, so Harry quickly pulls back and puts his plate on the coffee table before he scoops Louis closer.

“Lou, I’m sorry,” he mumbles into his temple. “The weekend is about forgetting, I should… I shouldn’t have opened my big fat mouth.”

“No,” Louis agrees with a little chuckle. He scoops Harry’s hand in his and presses a kiss into the knuckles. “But you are right. It’s our last day and I…”

“Louis?” Harry presses, nosing at his cheek. Louis’s gone quiet, sagged in his arms, and Harry’s known him for thirty nine hours but he’s pretty sure he’d do anything to make sure he never looks this sad again. “Lou, talk to me.”

“You said it’s a weekend about forgetting,” Louis says quietly, before he catches Harry’s lip in a small kiss, “but the last thing I want is to ever forget you.”

Harry’s heart leaps in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Louis says quickly, taking Harry’s silence for panic. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. _Harry…_ ”

“I know,” Harry repeats, turning his head so he can kiss Louis properly. “I know, Lou, I know. I thought I made it clear yesterday how I feel about you. Something particularly special, yeah?”

Louis chuckles wetly, nuzzling into Harry’s hand. “You’re a fucking arsehole,” he tells him. “For making me think I’d gone too far for a second and also for making me fall for you like this.” He ducks his head, a playful smile on his lips. “It’s been thirty nine fucking hours, Harry.”

“I know, I know,” Harry repeats for what feels like the thousandth time. “I don’t know what to say that’ll make this easier, apart from let’s have the best fucking day ever.”

“As opposed to the mediocre fucking we did yesterday,” Louis grins. Harry shrugs and kisses his hair. “Do you just wanna stay in the hotel or do you want to have some fun?”

“Staying in the hotel isn’t fun?” Harry pouts. “Having lots of sex isn’t fun?”

“Listen, you teenager,” Louis says dramatically. “I am an old man. My libido isn’t what it was two days ago.”

“Shall we put it to the test then?” Harry says, eyes twinkling. “I mean, if it takes you a while to be able to get it back up then surely it makes sense for me to just hold of making you cum…” He presses a kiss into the corner of Louis’s mouth, “for as long…” Another kiss. “As possible.”

Louis whines and nods, letting Harry press him into the sofa and kiss every inch of his skin, from the tops of his shoulders down to his tummy, then down to his thighs and then back to where Louis wants it.

He makes sure the plates are safely out of the way and then tugs Louis down, spreading his legs and shifting a pillow under his hips so he’s raised up, nice and open. He snaps his pants down for him, hot breath ghosting over his hole and then he licks, flattens his tongue and laps long and languid over Louis’s entrance until he’s crying and begging above him.

He wraps a hand around the base of Louis’s dick to stop him from coming once he feels the now familiar tensing of Louis’s body. It makes him cry harder and louder but Harry reassures him the whole time, words of pride and reassurance murmured into the soft skin of his thighs and belly. He pulls away, kisses back up Louis’s body and hovers over him, jerking him hotly until he can’t take it anymore and comes all over his belly. Harry keeps his hand moving, coaxing him through it, and then he collapses back against the end of the sofa, desperate to get a hand on himself.

Louis props himself up weakly on his elbows, murmuring a “come on, Harry, come for me.” He looks completely wrecked, debauched and beautiful, and Harry just needs to drink in the sight of him to be coming with a grunt all over his fist. He lies limply against the arm of the sofa, laughing as he watches Louis run his finger through the white mess on his belly curiously.

“I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before,” he says, sounding rather bewildered. “How did you do that?”

Harry snorts. “Amazing connection, babe. Plus you’re, like, the most responsive partner I’ve ever had. You’re so open about what you want, makes me so hard.”

Louis laughs, loud and unabashed, sitting himself up and crawling over to Harry to lie himself onto his chest. Their cum mixes together on their bellies and it should be gross, but Louis’s kissing him like nothing else matters.

“You’re so cute,” he says as they draw apart. He bops him on the nose. “You’re lovely, in fact.”

As much as they can both try to pretend they’re not affected by Louis’s words, it seems rather futile. So to quell the thumping in his chest, Harry tugs Louis up for another kiss, long and deep and slow. Louis tastes like sweat, his little palms pressed against Harry’s chest and they just _fit,_ that’s the thing. It makes Harry’s head spin, the way Louis’s so intoxicating and so pure all at once.

He’d do anything to be able to kiss him for a lot longer than they’ve got.

Later, after they’ve shared a whirlpool bath until their skin is pruned, Louis presses Harry onto the bed and fingers him for the first time, pressing gently inside and making Harry writhe from how slowly and torturously careful he’s being. Louis’s clearly nervous and his fingers are trembling as they first breach his entrance but with nimble fingers carding through Louis’s hair and Harry’s loud and eager responses they find a rhythm that has Harry a babbling, sweaty mess.

He comes with three fingers in his arse and Louis’s mouth around his cock, sucking sloppily as he relentlessly crooks his fingers against Harry’s spot. He chokes a little, some spunk dribbling out the corner of his mouth as he pulls off and forces himself to swallow. Harry’s too fucked out to offer anything other than weak grabby hands so Louis eventually crawls up his body and starts to grind his hard dick into Harry’s hipbone, splashing his skin and the sheets with white.

“Tastes like _shit,_ ” he grimaces, nudging his nose into the top of Harry’s arm. Harry winds it around Louis’s shoulders and pulls their sweaty bodies together. “Swallowing is so unpleasant. I’m not doing that again.”

“I’ve had my tongue up your arse and you’re complaining about a bit of spunk,” Harry huffs playfully. “I’ve been told my spunk is usually quite tasty, you know. Must be something to do with the junk food you’re plying me rather than my usual fayre.”

Louis groans. “You’re not a health nut, are you?”

Harry smiles sheepishly. “Healthy is good. Healthy is healthy.”

“Shut up,” Louis whines. “You sound like Liam.”

“Liam sounds very sensible,” Harry says sagely. “I bet we’d get on very well.”

“You probably would,” Louis grins. “You’d probably get on with all of them. Niall, in particular, I think; I think he’d really like you.” Harry lets out a breathy laugh. “What? He would!”

“I just like you,” Harry says, rolling them over so he’s hovering over Louis and staring down at him. “I just want to kiss you all the time.”

“You can,” Louis tells him, hand on Harry’s cheek. “I want to be kissed all the time. What a team we make.”

Harry shakes his head fondly and ducks down to kiss the proud smile off his face. Louis grins into it happily, arms winding around Harry’s neck.

After they’ve kissed for what feels like hours Harry goes for a long shower, letting the warm water run through his hair and soothe the ache in his tired muscles. He’s alone for the first time in nearly two days, he realises, and normally he’d jump at the chance for some alone time, but it doesn’t feel like that. In fact, he finds himself missing Louis already because if Louis were in here with him he’d probably be on his knees for him, long hair plastered to his face as Louis would come apart above him. It’s a beautiful image and Harry makes a note to ask Louis if he’d be up for it tomorrow.

The day their bubble bursts. The day they say goodbye and Harry goes back to being the desk clerk and Louis goes back to being Louis Tomlinson and their paths never cross again. It’s scary, almost, because ultimately Harry still doesn’t know anything about Louis, and for all he knows what Louis’s told him so far could be complete crap. This weekend could be pretend and all the shit that Harry drunk up so willingly about there being something special between them could just have been lines to keep Harry happy.

And maybe it’s stupid and a bit naïve but he still doesn’t think Louis’s like that. It can’t be bullshit, not with the way they’ve learned each other’s bodies, not with the way that Harry could tell you easily how Louis tastes, or how he’d react if he pressed his fingers here and there. He could tell you how Louis looks first thing in the morning, how he tastes of sleep when you kiss him. He could tell you how clingy he is before his morning cuppa, and he could tell you that he always eats his vegetables first with a grimace to get them out of the way.

He could probably venture to mention a thousand other things, and that realisation makes it feel like Louis was perhaps the best and worst decision of his life.

And it’s only as he’s towel-drying his hair that he realises that he still hasn’t signed those papers.

When he gets out the shower he dresses himself in just a pair of boxers, snug on his hips because Louis’s just that little bit smaller than him. He hangs his towel up then pads through to the living area to find Louis. The room is empty though, which is odd, but Harry thinks that maybe he’s gone to see his mum for a bit, so settles on the couch and scans over the room service menu.

Sure enough, Louis returns about ten minutes later. He’s barefoot and beaming, and when he sees Harry on the sofa he skips over to him and plonks himself right in his lap.

“Just popped to see Mum and the girls,” he explains, kissing Harry’s jaw. “They’re fine, they’re all going out for tea together tonight.”

Harry nods a little dumbly. “Do you want… are you going with them then?”

Louis shakes his head. “Not likely. Only got one more night with you, I’m not wasting that for nothing.”

Harry’s heart leaps and he hooks his chin over Louis’s shoulder so he can kiss at his neck.

“Also,” Louis says, plucking the menu from Harry’s hands and scanning over it himself, “I booked us out the pool.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up. “You did what? The… the big pool in the basement? Or the outside one?”

“Basement, Harold, it’s far too cold for outside,” Louis says. “Thought it might be rather nice getting fucked up against the wall of a swimming pool, if we can squeeze that in.”

He stares at Louis in horror. “ _Louis!”_

“What?”

“There’s CCTV,” Harry moans. “I’ll get fired!”

Louis snorts. “I’m fairly sure I’ve got the funds to pay the hotel off if you need me to, babe.”

“Louis,” Harry balks. “We can’t, we _can’t._ We’ll get caught and I’ll lose my job and… and… what if someone leaks it, or… or…?”

Louis shrugs. “They won’t, Alberto will be in the control room while we’re in there, I’ve already checked.”

“I’m still scared,” Harry mumbles into his hair. “Like, you haven’t even made me sign these papers and yet you’re willing to let me fuck you against the wall of a pool? And you’re just okay with your bodyguard watching in the control room?”

Louis flinches like Harry’s words physically hurt him. He’s rigid in his arms as he turns to him, his face stony and hard. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry rushes out, pulling back so he can look Louis in the eye, even though that hurts too. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“You think…” Louis starts, then stops again. “You think I’m going to let my bodyguard watch us fuck? And you think I still give two fucking shits about you signing those fucking papers? You think that’s what still matters?” He lets out a humourless laugh. “Why did you even bring that up? Like, what does it matter?”

“Because, Louis,” Harry shouts, throwing his hands up in the air and nearly dislodging Louis from his lap, “because this has been a weekend, and I don’t know you and you don’t know me, and this ends tomorrow! It ends tomorrow and I don’t know what to do other than sign the papers because if I don’t it might feel like this was real!”

Louis’s mouth drops open, and Harry regrets everything he just said.

“I didn’t… I…”

“You think this isn’t real?” Louis barks, climbing out of his lap hurriedly. He starts pacing the room, running hands through his hair until it’s flyaway and his expression makes Harry want to curl into a ball. “So when you told me all that shit yesterday – _this morning,_ even – you were just humouring me?”

“ _No,_ ” Harry insists, standing up. He wants to take Louis in his arms more than anything, to kiss away the doubts that he’s foolishly voiced but Louis looks thunderous and when Harry tries to touch him he flinches away like the touch burns. “Louis, I wasn’t thinking…”

“No, you weren’t, were you?” Louis snaps. He runs his hand through his hair again. “God, I cannot _believe_ you, Harry. We have one fucking night left.” He freezes suddenly, eyes wild as he snaps his gaze back to Harry. “You think I’ve been lying to you?”

“ _Maybe,”_ Harry blurts, dropping back down onto the sofa and hiding his face in his hands. Louis lets out some kind of hysterical snarl and he jumps at it, letting out a little whimper. He kind of wants to cry. “Louis, you need to understand! I get you for a weekend, alright? Just one weekend and then you fuck off and you forget me but I don’t know how to forget you! You do all these things like offer me a weekend of luxury and sex, then you buy me expensive room service and suck my dick and cuddle me like we’ve been together for ages, but it’s all a lie! It’s all just one weekend and I care _so much…_ ”

He looks up and Louis’s still frozen in the same spot. He can see how his body’s trembling from here. “I know fuck all about you, Louis, sweet fuck all. And I don’t… I don’t need to know your life story but I know enough about _you_ to care more than I should and I…” He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand and he jerks up when he sees Louis flinch out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t… I don’t _know_ what I want from you, Louis, but I want _something…”_

“You have something,” Louis croaks through the tense silence that follows, “You have me. You’ve had me for the weekend and you’ll have me for a long time afterwards, I promise.”

“Will I?” Harry yells. “Will I, Louis?”

“Yes,” Louis insists. He walks over to him and cups his cheeks, thumbing at a stray tear. “Harry, _please._ I’m sorry this happened, I’m sorry I didn’t let you go…”

“I’m not,” Harry rasps. He knocks their foreheads together. “I want you but I can’t have you, and I don’t know if you want me.”

“I want you, Harry,” Louis promises. “I really fucking want you.”

“But we can’t have each other,” Harry says flatly. “I can’t have you and it’s only been three days and it fucking hurts.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Louis sniffs. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, and I won’t make you fuck me in the pool, and I’ll fucking take whatever you’re willing to give me for the rest of the night but if you want to walk away now because you think it would be easier for you then I’m not going to stop you.”

Harry shakes his head, still shaking it even as he captures Louis’s lips in an awkward kiss. Louis kisses back hard, climbing back into Harry’s lap and cuddling into him as their mouths move together. Harry lets himself take in everything – the taste of tea on Louis’s tongue, the soft feel of his skin under his hands, the grip of his hands in his hair, and the smell of _Louis_ that Harry’s sure he never wants to let go of.

“I can’t…” Louis starts, wiping at Harry’s eyes again, “I can’t ask to come out yet, baby. No offence but it has been three days and with you… I need to be sure, anyway.”

“I would never ask you to until you’re ready,” Harry promises, kissing him again. “I wouldn’t ask you to even try, Lou. It’s… I just want to know that maybe I’ll see you again. Can we see each other again?”

Louis nods hurriedly. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll try, of course I’ll try. I’ll stay in this hotel every time I’m back in London, I promise.”

Harry chuckles wetly and just draws Louis in, hugging him properly. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s back and buries his nose in his shoulder, breathing deeply as Harry’s own hand soothes up and down his back. They cling to each other for god knows how long, just to be close and Harry almost wants to laugh because this kind of desperation to be this close to someone he’s known this amount of time feels absurd, but the way he’s feeling at the moment he thinks he’d probably follow Louis halfway across the world if he asked him to. He feels as confused and out of his depth as he did at the beginning of the weekend but he know he’s sure of one thing, and that one thing is Louis. He’s pretty sure he’s ruined for anyone else, but if Louis says he’ll try then he believes him. He’ll take what he can get, anyway.

Louis pulls back gently, cupping Harry’s face again and pressing their lips together in a few soft kisses. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he offers. “Anything at all. I just… I don’t want you to doubt what we have here.”

The earnest look in his eyes makes Harry have basically no choice but to kiss him again, long and languid. Wordlessly, he pulls Louis into him and scoops him up so his legs wrap around Harry’s waist and he carries them to the bedroom, tumbling them into the bed. He adjusts them so there’s not an inch of skin separating them chest to crotch and their legs are tangled together then draws the covers over them, cocooning them in their own little world.

“Tell me whatever you’re willing to tell me,” he prompts. “Anything at all.”

So with their hands linked between them, Louis talks. He tells him that he’s in London for the weekend for London Fashion Week where he made an appearance with the university student that his management have hired to pretend to be his girlfriend. He tells him that he loves his family more than anything but being with them is so loud and tour is loud, and sometimes he just needs his space. He tells him that he loves his boys but none of them quite get what he’s going through with this whole closeting thing, because it’s almost in his nature to be quite flamboyant and to call people ‘love’ but he’s told to dial it down, and that _hurts._

He tells him that he’s been to this hotel before, a few times, and he’s seen Harry milling about. He tells him that when Harry was working behind the hotel bar he served him a drink and they’d flirted for a while, and Harry goes red and protests that that must be a lie, but Louis just grins and kisses him through it.

He answers his earlier question of _why Harry?_ as he talks about how secretive they’re always forced to be, and he’s considered a few times in going clubbing and trying to pull like the other three have perfected but they don’t seem to get the risk that Louis’s situation has over theirs. So he’s just waited around, even had sex with a few girls in the hope that it would do the trick, but it never did. And he tells Harry that he’s an anomaly, that it took every ounce of courage in his blood to ask him to do what he did. If he’d chickened out he was probably going to ask Alberto to do it for him, that’s how much he wanted it.

(Harry kisses him for that, long and slow, and promises he’s always going to be in London if Louis needs it. It’s a vague hope that gets his heart thumping but Louis nods and kisses back fervently, like the deal is sealed.)

He tells him that his mum got married a few months ago for the third time, and while Dan is great and he wouldn’t swap his new siblings for anything he misses his mum more than anyone and he doesn’t get to see her in the same way he did before. It boils down to him being lonely, really, and when he’d seen Harry again and Harry had seemed interested, well, he couldn’t say no.

When it seems like Louis’s finally finished, and he’s trembling and his voice has broken several times and Harry’s kissed away the hurt as best he can, Harry pulls him into his chest and cradles him for a long time, smiling softly into his hair as he mumbles a quick “thank you, Louis.”

“Harry?” he mumbles eventually, “I don’t want to go to the pool anymore.”

“That’s okay,” Harry says. “What do you want to do?”

“You,” he says quickly. “I want you.”

So Harry takes him, slowly and carefully until he’s crying and begging for Harry to let him come. He cocoons him in his arms and just fucks into him for as long as he can draw it out, panting into each other’s mouths before they both come within minutes of each other.

They pant and cling to each other until they get their breath back, then Louis kisses his forehead and disappears into the bathroom. Harry rolls over in the sticky sheets and lets himself doze for a bit, until he feels Louis scrabbling back into the bed a little while later.

“Sorry I took so long, had to take care of a couple of things,” he says. He kisses Harry’s mouth quickly then rolls him over so he can spoon him from behind. “You wanna sleep?”

“Just for a bit,” Harry yawns, pushing himself back gently into Louis’s embrace. “Then can we get food?”

“Whatever you want, love,” Louis says. He kisses the little bit of skin behind Harry’s ear. “Sleep tight.”

*

Monday morning brings grey skies and rain and as Harry lies still tangled in Louis’s arms, listening to the soft patter of the raindrops against the window he can’t help but think how apt it is. In five hours his shift starts, then Louis checks out at two and it’s god knows how long before he sees him again. It’s too cold in the room but Harry’s too sad to move, letting Louis warm him as best he can while he sleeps on.

Eventually though, he feels too stir-crazy and wiggles out of Louis’s arms. He has a quick shower and cleans his teeth before he pulls on one of the hotel dressing gowns and pads through to the living room to order them both breakfast. Without Louis in charge of food he might be able to order a fruit bowl, or maybe he’ll go all out and have them with pancakes rather than the greasy fry-ups Louis’s so fond of, and he feels excited for the first time that morning.

He calls down for their food and then decides to go back to bed to wake Louis up slowly, but something stops him out of the corner of his eye while he’s on the phone. He trails off, ignoring whatever the person on the other end of the phone is saying and the second he’s hung up he hurries over to the dining table, gulping as he takes in the sight of the privacy contract ripped into little pieces.

With trembling hands he scoops some of the pieces up and rushes back to the bedroom, not even caring when the bedroom door bangs against the wall. Louis jerks awake with a little yelp and glares at him, but Harry pays him no mind. He unclenches his fist and the paper pours down over Louis like rain.

“What the fuck, Louis?” he asks with a trembling voice. “Why the fuck have you done this?”

Louis scrubs a hand over his face, bewildered. “I thought… did we not talk about this yesterday?”

“Not like this,” Harry shrills. “Louis, you shouldn’t have done that!”

“What?” Louis asks disbelieving. “You want to be tied up in contracts and all that law bullshit when really I think we’re past that?” Harry still stares at him so he sits up a little, wrapping a hand around his wrist. “Harry, those papers are for one night stands and stuff. You…” He brings his hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. “You are not a one night stand.”

“It’s been three days, Louis,” Harry says with a shaky voice. “Three fucking days.”

“Three days and the start of many more, with any luck,” Louis shrugs. He offers Harry a little smile. “I don’t want you to sign.”

“You’re a fool,” Harry says. He can’t seem to get his voice to stop shaking. “You’re a fool but I don’t want to sign either.”

Louis’s face breaks out into a grin that looks like it hurts. He sits up higher, tugging Harry on top of him and snogs him, morning breath be damned. Harry licks into his mouth, his huge hands cupping Louis’s face firmly like he never wants to let go.

So caught up in their snogging are they that they nearly the heavy knock on the front door. Louis tenses but Harry kisses him once more and pulls back.

“It’s breakfast, I ordered while you were still asleep,” he tells him. Louis nods and pulls the covers off him, finding some pyjama bottoms and stumbling towards the door as he awkwardly pulls them on.

They eat in relative silence, their ankles hooked under the table. When they’re done Louis doesn’t even tease Harry about the fruit like he was anticipating, just takes his hand and leads him towards the bathroom.

Anticipation thrums through Harry’s veins, almost rightly so as Louis pushes him against the shower wall and takes him in his mouth with his hands wrapped around the backs of Harry’s thighs. He slurps around him loudly, the sounds he’s making far louder than the pouring water, and Harry feels like he’s seeing stars within seconds. Louis’s mouth is tight and hot and he’s so eager, and Harry’ll be damned if he gives up this glorious opportunity to fuck Louis’s mouth.

Tentative hip roles and soft hands running through his hair coax Louis through it, and he finally works up to relaxing his throat so Harry can carefully thrust himself in and out of his mouth. He comes faster than he’d like, but it’s kind of worth it to watch Louis spit it down the drain and pretend he hasn’t. Louis grins up at him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and blinking with his wide, innocent eyes and Harry knows they’re going to be okay.

So he pulls Louis to his feet and kisses him, long enough for them both to be completely drenched, before he spins him against the tiles and drops to his knees. He buries his face in the cleft of Louis’s arse, the taste and feel of it now painfully familiar, and licks at his hole until Louis spills all over his fist.

“You’re so good at that,” Louis sighs. Harry just grins, standing up and beaming at him. “Honestly, I could fucking ride your tongue forever and it would be a life well spent.”

Harry throws his head back in a cackle and Louis laughs with him, wrapping his arms around his middle and laughing into his chest. He cradles Louis to him, nose buried in the top of his head, and thinks with an ache in his chest that getting to spend any time with Louis is probably a life well spent.

Getting dressed is a sombre affair – Harry’s been wearing very little all weekend, and the times he has been wearing clothes they were Louis’s – so dressing back in his tight suit with a pair of Louis’s underpants underneath is very unappealing. There’s still a couple of hours until his shift so Louis manages to convince him to spend another hour and a half snogging tucked in their frankly disgusting sheets. Another quick shower and frantic brush of his hair, then Harry puts on his clothes, not able to look Louis in the eye as he does it.

“You’re fucking hot in a suit, you know,” Louis says as he scrambles off the bed and swats Harry’s hands away so he can tie the knot in his tie. “You’re even hotter out of clothes, mind, but I could get very used to seeing you in a suit.”

Harry just smiles at him sadly, his heart feeling too big for his chest when he takes in how domestic this scene is – Louis in his underpants tying Harry’s tie. He’s got a face full of scruff and looks nothing like the well-kept lad who marched into Harry’s hotel and heart three days ago. Harry much prefers this Louis.

Their parting kisses bring tears to Harry’s eyes that Louis gently thumbs away like he did last night.

“Hey,” he says gently, cupping Harry’s face and kissing him again. “This isn’t the end. You have my number and you have my word. I’m back in London in a month, I promise.”

“I just…” Harry sniffs, trailing off as he knocks their foreheads together. “If this is the end, I had a really fucking amazing weekend.”

“So did I,” Louis says with a squeeze of his hand. “The very best, Haz, and I can’t thank you enough for it all.”

Their final kiss is messy, a clash of teeth and tongues unlike anything they’ve shared in any of their fucks, or anything they’ve had this weekend. Their lips move together in a sync that makes Harry’s head spin and when they reluctantly part Louis wipes at his mouth with the corner of his jumper then bounces up on his heels to press a final kiss into Harry’s cheek.

“Be good,” he tells him, “and don’t forget me.”

“Never,” Harry promises as he draws him in for a final hug, “never in your wildest dreams.”

*

It’s not easy. It was never going to be easy. But when Louis’s eating a curry off Harry’s chipped crockery from the 24-hour takeaway down the road, having shown up at Harry’s door at half past midnight on a Friday thirty-two days after they parted ways at the hotel, rain-soaked and beaming like a kid on Christmas, nothing has ever seemed simpler.

 _It is what it is,_ Louis’s always said. He’s even got the words on his chest, and Harry’s traced over them with his tongue more than once.

It’s wonderful, is what it is. Unconventional, but wonderful.

 


End file.
